


Eru Give Me Strength!

by Puppypals15179



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And So Is Legolas, Crack, Fanart, Modern Era, Modern Society Is REALLY Thot-y, OOC Legolas? Depends On How You Think He'd Be After Thousands of Years Amongst Us Derpy Humans!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppypals15179/pseuds/Puppypals15179
Summary: Legolas, rather than sailing to Valinor, chose to stay behind in Middle-Earth. For thousands of years he lived amongst mortals, integrating into their societies and enjoying life's pleasures alongside them. But now it's the Seventh Age, and the elves have returned!How will the elves, whose civilization in Valinor was practically stuck in time, react to modern Middle-Earth?





	1. “Obligatory Beach Episode Already!?” - The Return of the Elves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeHeerKonijn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeHeerKonijn/gifts).

Legolas was enjoying the latest summer, which was so far blessed with near-perfect weather. He hoped to gain a nice tan this year, as in past years he had ignored its importance and found himself resembling a ghost in the winter months. He wanted to be able to blend in with crowds, but blending in with the snow? No thanks!

Tanning was a relatively new fad, only starting about 2 decades previous. Legolas had seen many differing ideas of “beauty” come and go over millennia. He found that basically whatever was costly to do was the “it” thing. In the past it was “Rich enough to not work outside? Lock yourself inside 24/7 and make like a pale-ass vampire”, but now it was more like “Rich enough to not work? Go on a crap-tonne of vacations in the tropics and get that sweet sun”.

One could go to a local library or bookstore and find whole series on the weird shit people did in the past. But why would Legolas ever have to do that? After all, he had lived through them all.

That’s right, he had lived through the eras of powdered wigs, tights with codpieces, AND bell-bottoms.

It had been around 6,000 years since his father, King Thranduil, and the remainder of his people left Middle Earth. It was now the 6th age, and Legolas had- wait, or was it the 7th age now? After a few thousand years he had lost interest in keeping track. Just a quick internet search aaaaaand… yep, it was currently the 7th age.

Basically, it had been a long ass time since he became the only elf left in Middle Earth. 

After Gimli and the rest of the Fellowship had passed on, he found himself less willing to get attached to mortals. He watched as dwarfs and hobbits slowly declined in numbers and genetically integrated into human society. Few full-blooded dwarves or hobbits existed in MIddle-Earth anymore. Meanwhile the humans went in the opposite direction. They just kept on growing. But, well… it wasn’t called “The Age of Man” for nothing.

A few political agreements here, a few lined pockets there, and Legolas found himself enjoying a life of, if not anonymity, relative peacefulness. At the beginning, he’d be swarmed by kings and councilmen asking for advice and help daily. “How many soldiers should we send to our allies?” and “How do I tell the King of Gondor to go fuck himself, but in a…’polite’ way?” and everything in-between and beyond. He could never get a break, what with all of the disagreements and wars and political alliances between the various kingdoms. But after the most recent World War, Middle-Earth had been experiencing a period of peace.

War could go suck a big one. If the war had still been going on, he wouldn’t have been able to lay here, soaking in the sun and sipping on a Blue Lagoon Cocktail! Yummy.

Dol Amroth’s beaches had long been one of the top vacation spots in Gondor due to its long beaches with soft sand and relatively warm summers. It was one of the reasons Legolas decided to make the city his main home.

So here he was. Tanning his butt off to keep up with the latest fashion in body modification while also gaining a nice dose of Vitamin D. 

Slathered in why-are-you-even-bothering-SPF sunscreen, his skin glistened in the sun. While not quite as ethereal looking as when he lightly glowed in moonlight, his form drew many appreciating stares. He had on a pair of sunglasses with his hair in a loose updo that shielded his ears from any glances his way. While the mortals had lost most of their interest over his immortality, he still found himself in need of a disguise whenever he went into public. The jacket he wore to cover up while walking to the beach lay on the ground next to him, alongside his bag, phone, and a piña colada.

Legolas stretched and shook out his limbs, working out the kinks from the stresses of daily living. Sitting up, he lifted his cocktail and took a sip while glancing around the beach. Children were running amok, a beach-volleyball game was being played a ways off, and based on the smell someone was holding a barbeque. 

He looked out to sea, and his wandering eyes halted. There was a ship in the distance, which normally would be nothing special. Cruises were common in The Bay of Belfalas in the summer, after all. But this one? It was… different.

It was small, yet had a tall mast with one large sail, and glistened with a silver light. It almost looked like it was from some fantasy pirate movie. Perhaps it is part of a filming set, Legolas told himself while laying back down onto his towel. After all, Dol Amroth was known for its burgeoning entertainment industry.

He took another sip of his cocktail, using his heightened elven hearing to listen to the sounds of seagulls and humans walking on the beach and the boats sailing out in the distance getting louder and louder....

Wait… “boats”?

Legloas lifted his head up, glancing over his body and towards the sea. It was then that he spotted that there was more than one ship. Indeed, there were… a LOT of boats. And they kept getting bigger.

Legolas felt a tickling in the back of his head. These ships seemed… familiar.

In his shock he accidentally tipped his cocktail, spilling some of it onto his beach towel and swimsuit.

It couldn’t be.

He slowly stood up and walked towards the water’s edge. 

It had been around 6,000 years since the last of the elves besides him left Middle-Earth….

And it seems that they finally decided to return.

....shit.

The beach was spotted with swimmers and kids frolicking in the sand, and slowly the crowd seemed to notice the incoming ships. Oh course, as is expected in such modern times, phones began to come out to record and live-stream the strange event. 

The government was probably not going to be happy with their inability to control how the elves’ return went down. No slow integration back into society. No large press conferences. Nope, thousands of elves descending upon a sunny beach full of vacationers was the way the cookie was going to crumble.

“What in Eru’s name?”said Legolas, as he noticed something that might bode even further ill to the elves’ return.

The boats continued to barrel swiftly towards the shore, but it seemed that the returning-elves did not anticipate it to be filled with so many people. There was a small harbor off to the side, but most of it was already in use by privately-owned boats and rental paddle boats. The previously well-ordered pattern of boats began to separate into smaller sub-groups, each angling towards a different destination.

Legolas heard some sudden, short yells echo across the water. Was that….Quenya? He really hoped that at least some Westron or even Sindarin was retained or learned by the returning elves. Otherwise their arrival was going to be even more migraine-inducing. 

The yell in Quenya seemed to be an order of some kind, for the boats began to re-converge and as one large mass began to turn and aim towards the docks. It quickly became apparent that the ships were in for a tight fit, as despite being one of the largest ports in Middle-Earth the docks were not made for so many vessels. But they were apparently determined, and as if slipping into funnels the ships one by one began to slide in between the multitude of piers. 

A man decked in bathing shorts and a polo began to jog down the pier closest to the beach, all whilst waving his arms back and forth and yelling.

“Greetings, inhabitants of Middle-Earth!” a voice called out across the din caused by the beach-goers, many holding up their phones and murmuring in awe at the frankly strange shit they were seeing. 

There, at the helm of the forefront ship, was Lady Galadriel. Cloaked in a gown of what seemed to be pure silver, she gleamed in the mid-day sun. Apparently she gleamed too much, for many in the crowd began to hold up hands in front of their faces to block the glare.

The man in the polo yelled out to her “What are you- Are you even authorized to come in here!? Where are your docking permits? Large ships must inform ME, the head dockhand, at least one week in advance if they wish to anchor at this pier!”

Behind Galadriel the elven ships continued to drift into the harbor, squeezing between the docked boats. Or attempting to, it seems, as an abrupt crunching noise cut through the din followed by a faint “Hey, that was my yacht!”

Galadriel looked unperturbed by the yelling man, and continued to look across the throng. “We have traveled from beyond the horizon, from a blessed land where-”

The dockworker, it seemed, was not having any of that. 

“I don’t care, lady! You can’t just barge in here with a crap-tonne of boats and smash everything to fuck-town! So help me Eru I will call the police!”

Galadriel apparently finally decided to take in the apparent dockworker’s presence, and slowly turned to look at him. “Worry not, keeper of the harbor. Our return was long foretold, and decided upon by Eru himself. We are a congregation of elves; beings long departed from these lands. Fear not us, for we are friends to man-kind” she said, all while smiling in that kind yet.... somewhat demeaning way of hers. 

Eru, this whole thing was a shit-show, Legolas thought to himself.

Could he sneak off without being noticed? Should he? If this was indeed the return of the elves to Middle-Earth, then they were sure to discover him eventually. Unlike with the mortals, he couldn’t just wait for all involved to die of old age. Eru dammit, he had to be responsible. Unless… He went and lived like a hermit, hiding away in some cave somewhere? But that cave might not have wifi. Or even 4G! Was he willing to make that sacrifice?

“We know what fucking elves are!”, the dockworker screeched.

Galadriel seemed pleased at the news, while the rest of the elves appeared taken aback; either at the information that their existence was still knowledge in Middle-Earth even after 6,000 years or at the dockworker’s tone to one of their leaders.

Galadriel spread her arms softly to the side. “Ah, excellent! You preserved written records of our kin? That shall make our return most simp-”

“No,” the worker said, snipping Galadriel’s incoming speech in the bud. “we know what elves are ‘cause we’ve all seen one!”

The elves jittered and muttered at this. “You speak of falsehoods! No elf has lived in your lands for thousands of years! All departed to the lands of Valinor 6,000 years past. Perchance the blood of elves, borne through those mated with humans, led to such mistaken understanding?” pronounced a male Elf with long brown hair.

“No, pretty sure that Legolas guy is full-elf” the worker huffed.

Would he be able to at least get cable? Valinor knows he wouldn’t be able to survive with all of the ads. Perhaps if he- wait, did the worker just say his name!? That mother fuck-

“Legolas? Do you speak of Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Greenwood?” the brown-haired elf exclaimed.

The dockworker seemed offended at the very idea. “Prince? No, he ain’t no prince. Just some pretty-boy.”

This seemed to awaken the crowd assembled on the beach by the docks, which began to hum with soft scoffs and angry murmuring.

A young girl’s voice cut loudly through the murmurs. “He’s not a pretty-boy! He’s drop dead gorgeous!” she said aghast. 

Another voice spoke up. “He’s also super cool and strong! Did you even read the interview they did with him in Sixteen Magazine?”

This apparently was a topic of much interest to the crowd, as they began to turn and talk to one another, all while ignoring the slew of boats and elves that until then held their attention. 

“OMG, the ones with the swimsuit photoshoot? I died.”/“I got my hair cut and bleached to match him!”/“Have you seen the pics they recently released of his next clothing line? I NEED those booty-shorts!”/“Have you seen his ass? It’s like pudding!”

The elves with their enhanced hearing seemed to be catching every word said, and were looking more and more confused and shocked with each sentence. 

Well, this was not how Legolas wanted to be re-introduced to the elves. ‘Hello, I’m Legolas! We’ve never met, but you may have heard about my fine pudding-like ass.’ 

Well, fuck it then.

Legolas sighed and swiftly chugged down the remaining mimosa and picked up his piña colada, as he needed all the alcohol he could get for this. Although as neither were Dorwinion wine he doubted it would be enough. Picking up and putting on his jacket he began to swiftly walk towards the docks. “No, that’s not good enough,” he thought. “You need to strut! Sure, the ships are filled with elves who have lived thousands of years more than you and whose tales father told you when you were a child, but they are now on your turf!”

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked upon reaching the edge of the crowd.

Some on the edge turned at the sound of his voice, and upon their shouts of delight the rest of the throng spun as one to look at him. A cacophony of shrieks and squeals burst from the crowd as people began to push towards him.

Time to play this cool, Legolas.

“So they’ve finally returned, huh?” he said while looking at the ships. “Well, I better go and smooth things over.”

Years of experience dealing with hordes of fans in addition to his elvish reflexed meant Legolas had little trouble making his way through the crowd, yelling out “sorry no time for autographs” and “gotta’ handle this first, then I can shake your hand” as he ducked and weaved. Soon he found himself on the pier, body intact and without spilling any of his piña colada.

“_Alatulya!_ I see you’ve finally returned!” Legolas called out to the elves, coming to a stop and placing a hand on his hip. 

Upon closer inspection of the lead ship, Legolas found that he could put names to faces and recognized many elves he knew during the Second Age. Elrond and his sons were standing close behind Galadriel, and Legolas could make out the bright sheen of Glorfindel’s famous golden hair. And standing off to the side of Glorfindel was Gandalf. He looked at Legolas, eyes scanning him up and down, silently smoking his pipe. His eyes glimmered in amusement, as if he were both happy to see him alive yet also finding humor in Legolas’ apparently not-so-hidden discomfort. 

Galadriel looked down upon his form on the pier as a look of wonderment appeared on her face. “Prince Legolas of Greenwood! You lingered in Middle-Earth? Your absence in Valinor led us to believe you perished!” 

A voice cried out from one of the ships “Legolas!? Did someone say the name of my son? Is he here!?”, and Thranduil suddenly appeared at the bow of the ship behind Galadriel’s.

“My son. My… my son, you live?” Thranduil spoke, tears forming in his eyes.

“Yes, Ada. I’m alive.” Legolas said, somewhat upset that his own father thought he had kicked the bucket.

Thranduil seemed to realize that his daily quota for public displays of emotions beyond disdain or indifference was reached, and his form stiffened. “Well, I am surprised you managed to survive without my support. I expect a report as to what you have been doing all of these millennia.” Ah yes, there’s the father he knew and loved...

“It pleases me greatly to see you reunited with your son, King Thranduil. But I am sure your people would appreciate being able to feel the land of Middle-Earth beneath their feet. Perhaps it is time we disembark the ships?” Gandalf said, lightly admonishing Thranduil. He then turned back to Legolas and asked “I assume that society has changed greatly in our absence. Legolas, as you have greater understanding than us of current Middle-Earth, may we ask of you help in reintegrating?” 

Aaaaaand here comes the responsibility.

Legolas nodded in consent, wincing as he did so.

Galadriel turned, facing the ships behind her, and let out a high-pitched whistle. A wooden boarding ramp appeared from each ship, and elves carrying crates and bags began to disembark from the ships onto the docks.  
Galadriel turned back to Legolas, and having ignored or missed his hesitation interjected, “We find ourselves weary, as we have sailed for many days and nights. Our kingdoms are many days of travel from us, and so we must find lodging for the time being. May you please lead us to the one in charge of this city? We with to communicate with the local ruler to arrange a meeting with the current King of Gondor.”

Legolas sighed, for he already saw a major problem. Based on the amount of supplies he could see on the ships, the elves likely thought that they would just stay a week or so until they were ready to travel back to their homes. And based on Galadriel’s use of the term “kingdoms” and “nobles”... Well, let’s just say he was NOT looking forward to describing the rise of Democracy to all of the returning royalty.


	2. “It’s Fashion, Ada!” - Or Legolas Exposes the Elves to Modern Fashion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite it being only a few days since the elves returned to Middle-Earth, Legolas is already at the end of his rope!  
His attempt at retail therapy goes south.

Legolas was starting to regret recent life choices.

The various governments of Middle-Earth were not quite ready to explain to the elves that they technically no longer had homes to go back to; their lands long taken control of by a government or bought by private entities. So in order to gain some time to prep for the inevitable legal battle, the Gondorian government worked out a deal with hotels in the city and nearby towns to house the elves for a month. All under the guise of allowing the elves to recuperate from their long voyage, of course. Unfortunately the local hotel industry was not fully equipped to house thousands of elves in addition to the annual summer-rush, and as such the quality of the hotels the elves were housed in varied greatly.

If Legolas had to hear one more elf complain about the amenities in the local Ruby Roof, he swore he was going to yeet the elves one by one back over the ocean to Valinor.

He had stupidly agreed to help the elves integrate back at the beach when the elves first arrived, and so his father and the rest of the elvish monarchs had attached themselves to his hip. They were constantly calling him to ask questions and to tell him to do something for them. “How does one use this ‘television’ contraption that is located in our bedrooms?’ and “There are not enough trees in this city. Tell the local government to plant more trees, or we will do so ourselves!” filled his every waking hour.

It had only been two days since the elves’ return ... and it felt longer than the last two-thousand years. He was already at his wit’s end. 

He needed to de-stress somehow. 

Sadly running away to another country was not an option, as the government made it plainly clear that it was his “duty” to help them deal with the returned elves. Knowing the current Gondorian government, they probably already secretly blocked his passport in order to keep him in the country and were likely following his every movement… So his options were limited to Dol Amroth.

Well, at the _ very least _he was free to turn off his phone and leave his apartment. That’d probably gain him at least a couple hours of peace and quiet before the delegates sent out a worker to track him down and drag him to a meeting on… elvish dancing customs or some other thing. 

Legolas was still in his pajamas, having woken from his slumber with the sunrise. After a few hours of quality internet-usage, with a few phone-calls from various elvish nobles and monarchs, he decided that it was finally time to put his escape plan into action.

Of course, he refused to go out with his rat’s nest of hair, and so he decided to hop into the shower. After a swift cleaning, he waltzed out of the bathroom to choose his outfit for the day.

Fashion, Legolas found, changed quite rapidly. After appearing at that political gala in 1342 in 1341’s fashion, he refused to ever again go through such humiliation. 

And so Legolas found himself paying close attention to clothing the past few millennia. And the latest height of fashion? Wearing as little clothing as possible while still being able to walk through a shopping mall without being tackled by security for public indecency. It was… a fine-line.

And so he found himself in a situation of his own making. His apartment, while well-stocked with food and various forms of entertainment, was apparently NOT well stocked with a wide range of clothing. Scrolling through his closet, he quickly recognized a problem...

Crop top, crop top, v-neck t-shirt, tank-top, crop top…

Shorts, shorts, booty shorts, reaaaally short booty shorts…

...Perhaps he had followed current trends TOO closely.

He would have to get a new wardrobe specifically for when interacting with the elves. He’d gotten by on just talking over the phone or wearing the few jeans and semi-covering-shirts he kept from the Spring season… but he really should have more just in case he ran out of clean clothes. Which was what put him into the bind he was in now. Few people would notice if he wore the same jeans as yesterday, but the idea of wearing already-worn clothing made him shudder. 

Well, it wasn’t as if he would see any elves he personally knew if he went to the mall. Many of the elves had locked themselves in their hotel rooms, and those that did go out into the city tended to congregate around the local parks. The nearest mall was located in the center of the city, so he’d be safe…

Probably.

Grabbing a pair of shorts and a crop-top, Legolas picked up his phone and started researching what shops to hit up. He might not have time to wander and browse before he was tracked down and dragged to another meeting for his personal input, so he’d have to have a game plan. 

* * *

After parking in the mall’s parking garage, Legolas walked in through one of the main entrances and began to stroll in the direction of the first store on his itinerary.

Now, with the advent of advertising, Legolas found himself becoming somewhat of a celebrity. It began with an acquaintance of his in the fashion industry asking him to model for their latest collection’s photoshoot. This was in the 70s… the 1970s the be exact, and after that particular magazine issue flew off the shelves the fashion industry realized the impact Legolas could have on sales. Amongst elves Legolas was, well, not the _ height _ of beauty. But to mortals he was “a gift from Eru himself," as one fashion mogul put it. 

Heck, even the dwarves and those of dwarvish descent had long adopted some human-accepted markers of beauty, and he found himself somewhat admired amongst even them! If Gimli could see_ that, _ why his beard would fall off in shock!

So... safe to say he was one of the most sought after models in all of Middle-Earth. It frankly did wonders for his self-esteem.

He soon came upon Victor’s Secret, located towards the end of the mall’s main hallway, and stopped to admire the front display. He had recently done a modeling gig for Victor’s Secret’s latest collection called “Best Night Ever”, and so it came as no surprise when he saw a large poster of him modeling one of the underwear released. 

At first he was somewhat embarrassed at the idea of modeling for the company, as he had yet to model anything as revealing as underwear. Sure,thousands of years with only thirsty mortals for company meant that he learned to connect more with his sexuality… but it still was hard to tap into at times. Previously he only modeled high fashion, as that was where he and his acquaintances specialized, and those in general were semi-covering. Weird sometimes, to be frank, but the clothing still covered the important bits… which was more than he could say for some of the underwear Victor’s Secret had him model.

But he personally owned many pairs of the brand’s underwear, and so loyalty compelled him to push through his embarrassment. The offer of yearly PR trips and backstage passes to the hottest party and music festival in Middle-Earth, Couchella, also didn’t hurt.

That loyalty was what made him put the store on his itinerary, as he wanted to replace some of his older underwear with newer ones. Specifically with the briefs he modeled for the photo in the store’s display, as during the photoshoot he marveled at how comfortable they were. They were almost comfortable enough to make up for how cold the studio was during the shoot. Thank goodness for Photoshop, otherwise every photo of him from the shoot would have had his nipples poking out of his chest like Mount Doom out of Mordor. Not to mention shrinkage...

Having quickly grabbed and purchased a few new pairs of underwear, Legolas looked at his phone to see what store he had planned to hit up next.

* * *

Now carrying a couple large bags filled with some early-release Fall Season clothing, Legolas began the trek back to the parking garage. While he couldn’t find anything similar to the robes he saw the elves on the ship wearing, and he frankly refused to wear anything so ill-fitting, he _ did _ manage to find some jeans and button-up shirts that would hopefully go over well enough with the elves… and his father. 

His bathing suit did not go over so well when the elves first arrived at the beach, but he was able to explain it away well enough as an acceptable bathing wear. The fact that the various people on the beach were wearing similarly revealing bathing suits helped his case.

But everyday clothing had a wider range than bathing suits for how much of the body they covered, and he wasn’t sure if his father would accept the same argument. Just walking through the mall he saw people wearing long-sleeved shirts! In SUMMER! As soon as his father saw that he’d call bullshit on his excuses.

Down at the other end of the main hallway, the regular sound of shoppers was rapidly increasing in volume. 

“Hurry up! Jessica said that there’s a group of elves near Marcy’s! We HAVE to go get a look!” a teen yelled as she ran by, pulling another girl by the hand behind her.

Shit, how did they find him!?

Legolas jumped into a nearby shoe store, tucking himself behind a shelf of sneakers near the entrance. He pulled out his cellphone, turning it back on. 

He had a dozen or so missed phone calls, mostly from his father and Gandalf. But opening up his texts, he noticed the latest one from Mayor Balder.

_ As stated in the voicemail left on you cellphone, the office is running a guided tour at the downtown mall and shopping district for your father and a number of others. It would be greatly appreciated if you would join. Please respond in a timely manner. _

...and the message was received an hour and a half ago.

On his phone Legolas opened up the Tweeter app and searched for the mall’s hashtag, hoping to Eru that perhaps the “elves” the running teens were talking about were just… early Christmas elves or LARPers. But his hopes were quickly dashed, as sure enough the tag’s page was covered in pictures of elves in the mall’s main hallway and in various stores. 

Huh, apparently the tour involved the elves trying out frozen yogurt. Elves were not known for having very expressive faces, but it was easy to see that overall they enjoyed it. One photo showed a female elf with a cup that had about 6 inches of just gummy bears added to the top, while another showed one carrying four cups stacked on one another. In one photo a man wearing a suit, most likely the poor government worker stuck guiding the elves around, could be seen handing a pile of cash to the frozen yogurt cashier. 

The group, based on the photos, appeared to number around three dozen. Some of the photos showed agitated staff from various stores in the background, likely unprepared for the sudden slew of customers.

While looking through the most recent posts, the sound of people talking had been getting consistently louder and louder. Pushing two boxes apart, Legolas peered through and out into the hallway.

In the time that it took him to check his phone, the elves had managed to make their way down the hall and were shuffling past the store he was hidden in.

He had some memory of what he used to wear back when the elves still inhabited Middle-Earth, but after a few millennia of trends coming and going he couldn’t remember specifics. But looking at the elves wandering through the mall and then looking at his own outfit… He could certainly point out a _ few _key differences. 

Wow... was the amount of acceptable skin to show really THAT different?

For decades Legolas thought his recruitment into modeling to be a good thing. A way to be admired not for his political influence, but for his looks! Well… put that way it doesn’t sound too good, but after millennia of mortals liking him primarily what he could do for them politically? It was a welcome change of pace.

But now, Legolas was not so sure if this choice was such a good thing.

Because he knew for a _ fact _that Victor’s Secret was located in the direction the group was headed… And that the store’s front display case had a life-sized photo of him in underwear that made even his current outfit look like a three-piece suit. 

He NEEDED them to go the other way.

Being spotted was unacceptable, so he couldn’t go out and redirect them himself. Even causing a distraction was likely to get him caught.

He hated to admit it, but he needed help.

Pulling up “recent calls”, Legolas clicked on the most recent contact. Foot tapping, Legolas waited as the other end kept ringing and ringing and ringing. “Come on… pick up. Pick up!” he hissed.

_ “Hello, you’ve reached Mayor Balder’s office. I am unavailable to answer the phone at this time. Please call my secretary or leave a messa-” _

Legolas hung up, swearing softly under his breath. He would have yelled the swear words, but he did not want to risk giving his location away. 

Peering through the show boxes again, he could see some humans and a hobbit with their phones out and pointed down the hallway. It seemed that all of the elves had passed by the shoe store. If they had gone inside the store, it would have been a game-over.

At the pace the elves were going at, taking into account the time between the photos posted of them at the south end of the mall, the distance to the shoe store, and the distance to Victor’s Secret… Assuming the worst, that they did not stop on the way, he had around three minutes before the group reached the underwear store.

He had hoped to have the mayor call the tour guide and tell him to reroute the group, but it appeared that the mayor was on a break. He could call a friend for help, be he didn’t know who was currently nearby and calling each person one by one would waste precious time. Think!

Legolas slapped his forehead.

He was an idiot. The entire issue revolved around the elves seeing images of him modelling underwear. If the elves didn’t see any photos of him in the store, there would be no issue!

But the elves were already past his hiding place, and in order to get to Victor’s Secret he’d have to go right by them! 

Unless…

Sprinting out one of the side-entrances to the mall, Legolas rushed around the outside. Recalling the mall he had been a regular customer to since its creation, Legolas mentally mapped the layout. It would have to be… yes! That door!

Slamming open the back door to Victor’s Secret’s storage room, Legolas sprinted past two shocked workers and into the main part of the store. 

He jumped and grabbed the top corner of the large poster, pulling it out of half of the clamps holding it up. Reaching up again, he pulled the poster completely from its hangers, and clutched it to his chest. 

“Wait, what are you doing!? You don’t work h- Hey, wait! Aren’t you Legolas!? It’s so cool to meet you in person! Wait… what are you doing destroying our display case?” yelped one of the workers, previously busy organizing bins of boxers when Legolas sprinted by.

“There’s no time to explain! I need you to get rid of every display piece that has me on it!” Legolas yelled while looking around at the rest of the display. There was a small framed picture of just his barely-clothed ass on a decorative table, which he reached out and kicked over with his foot. 

Dropping the now-crumpled poster onto the floor, he turned in towards the rest of the store and ran over to the shelf holding the “Best Night Ever” collection. On one side of the words “Best Night Ever” was an image of his face winking, and on the other an image of just his butt. He reached out and grabbed the sign, wincing at the imagery and what the prudish elves would think. “I need to get rid of it all before my father and the other elves get here!” he said while yanking the sign up and off of the poles holding it in place.

“Um, do you mean those elves?” the worker squeaked, pointing to the front of the shop.

Legolas turned.

There, looking through the large glass wall, were a line of elves peering into the store. Each had a look of shock laced with confusion on their face. One even had a spoon of half-melted frozen yogurt dripping down her hand, too busy gawking at Legolas to notice. 

And… oh no. It was bad enough that some of the elves had seen him, but Legolas recognized Glorfindel’s bright gold hair as well as Elrond and his sons. 

Legolas dropped the sign to the floor, then kicked it below a nearby table. 

Elrond glided through the entrance, the rest of the elves remaining outside. The one with the melted yogurt had finally noticed and was working with another elf to try and clean the mess. The others were busy whispering to one another.

Stopping in front of him, Legolas finally remembered how intimidating Eldrond could be. Nothing close to his father’s level, but still shit-inducing in his own right. “Thranduilion! It is a… surprise to see you here.” 

“Ah, well, I just happened to be shopping and decided to... help the workers redecorate the store! They heard that you were coming and wanted to make the place look its best. Isn’t that right?” Legolas said, turning around to look at the nearby worker and giving his best “please Eru help me” face.

The worker looked at Legolas, then the elves, and silently gave a small nod.

Elrond seemed appeased by this explanation. “I see. It is heartening to see that you have lost none of your exuberance,” he said, smiling at Legolas.

At this point, Eldrond’s twin sons Elrohir and Elladan had made their way into the store and were off to the side looking into a bin of clearance underwear. 

With Elrond’s apparent acceptance of his lie, Legolas finally noticed that the crowd of elves outside was noticeably smaller than the photos online led him to believe. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is the rest of the tour? I saw on Tweeter- I mean, I heard people saying that there were around three dozen elves in the mall, but I only see eight here.”

“Those of us of Rivendell became hungry, yet the others wished to continue perusing wares,” one of the twins piped in.

“As such we decided to split off and continue onward to the nearby tavern... uninterrupted,” the other said, holding up a pair of heart-patterned boxers and turning it over in his hands. 

“However, whilst walking we spotted you and decided to stop,” said the first, grabbing a neon-green thong and lifting it out of the bin.

Elrond examined his sons, then trained his eyes on Legolas. “And what manner of clothing is sold here? I do not recall seeing any mortals wearing garbs such as these.”

Legolas stared right back. “It is a place that sells undergarments.” 

Off to the side, Legolas saw the twins quickly drop the underwear back into the bin.

Elrond’s gaze traveled the room, landing on the various posters and mannequins spread throughout. “I see. It is most interesting to see how clothing has changed over the years. Why, many of the items I see displayed here use less than one-eighth of the fabric the undergarments we- that is to say… Yes, well, most interesting…”

The humans and other mortal beings had up to this point been staring through the display window and front entrance, taking photos and talking excitedly to one another over the fact that Legolas was _ there_! But after a few moments, Legolas could see them begin to turn their attention down the hall.

It seemed the main group had caught up.

Elrond looked and nodded towards his sons, then turned towards the entrance of the store. His eyes locked one by one with the elves outside, and turning he nodded at Legolas. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Eldrond leaned in towards his ear. “We will not tell, although you might wish to still remove the… evidence" he whispered, and began to walk further into the store.

Remove the evidence? If Legolas had anything to say about it, he was going to remove himself! It was bad enough that eight elves saw him, but he refused to risk letting any more do so.

He walked over to where he left the poster on the group, and reached down to pick it up.

“Legolas!?” a voice called out.

Eru dammit.

Legolas stood and turned, leaving the poster on the ground. There standing in the doorway was his father, along with a large group of elves.

What were the chances that NONE of the numerous photo Legolas saw on Tweeter had his father in them? Cursing Eru mentally, Legolas began walking towards the entrance, hoping to keep his father from entering the store.

“Ah, father. I see that you joined the tour! Have you enjoyed being able to see the sights?” Legolas said while grinning, eye imperceptibly twitching.

Thranduil came to a stop in the entrance, eyes wandering over Legolas’ form and then flitting side to side towards the elves and mortals around the store.

“Legolas… It is a pleasure to see you. I was under the impression that you were busy working with the mayor organizing a monetary conversion program, and so were unavailable to personally guide us today,” Thranduil crooned through gritted teeth. 

It seemed that Mayor Balder had been kind enough to give his father an excuse as to why he did not join the tour… although in typical politician fashion saddled him with more responsibility at the same time. 

A look of understanding appeared on the nearby worker’s face, and setting down the pair of boxers they were holding they walked over to the table Legolas kicked the sign under. The worker then slid the sign out from under it, angling it away from where he and his father were. 

Mentally thanking the stars above, Legolas straightened his back and looked his father in the eyes. Best to act overly self-assured when lying. “I was _ indeed _ in a meeting with the mayor. However, he was… called away due to an emergency and so the meeting ended early. I found myself with some free-time, and so came here to get some shopping done.” 

At this point, the two other workers who were in the backroom when Legolas first ran through seemed to make the same connection as the first worker. One walked and picked up the crumpled poster while the other ran to grab the broken picture-frame Legolas had kicked over, clutching it to their chest. All three workers then strode to and through the backdoor with their prizes.

In the corner of his eye, Legolas spotted a flash of gold. Turning to look, he saw Glorfindel grab a lacy pair of briefs, look at the nearby mannequin for reference, and stretch the underwear over his front crotch-area.

The rest of the elves had dispersed throughout the store and were busy ogling the mannequins or grabbing various underwear from the shelves.

The rest of the elves distracted, Thranduil grabbed onto Legolas’ arm and drew him to the side of the store while hissing “What manner of garb are you wearing?”

Of course his father would jump right in. Legolas knew that his father’s reaction would be negative. He would have to play dumb to see if there was an opening past Thranduil’s defenses. “Whatever do you mean, Ada?” he said, cocking his head lightly to the side.

“Do not play dumb with me! When I first returned you yourself explained to me that amongst mortals clothing with little coverage is equated with swimwear. It was the reason I accepted you wearing a single piece of garb that covered only your groin and a fraction of your buttocks, as shocking as the sight was. We are not currently located at or near the beach, and so I ask... why you are clothed in swimwear!?”

As compelling as it was to try and take the bait and explain away his clothing as a form of swim-wear, Legolas _ had _ hoped to convince the elves into accepting current fashion. While he originally planned on slowly integrating more revealing items into what he wore around the elves, it seemed that it was going to end up an all-or-nothing battle.

And from years upon years of experience, to convince his father would be no small task.

“It’s called _fashion_, Ada. It’s what people _wear_ now."

Thranduil did not appear impressed. The look of shocked horror laced with disappointment on his face was well known to Legolas. “Yes, I am aware that fashions have changed. Walking through this city has convinced me enough of that. However, what you are wearing lacks decency and is not befitting one of your station! There is no embroidery beyond your pants, the necklaces you wear clearly contain fake gems, and there is so little fabric overall that it gives you the appearance of wearing scraps. You are a prince of The Woodland Realm! To be clothed in such beggarly commoner’s garb is unacceptable! 

“Well, you see… It’s a bit confusing, but to display one’s success and wealth, less is considered more! Nowadays, instead of showing off wealth with fancy fabrics and gems, you do so by wearing clothing made by famous designers and… um, well-known tailors!" Legolas felt a hint of sweat start to form on his lower back. Time to wrap this up. "So you see, by wearing less than others, I am _ actually _showing more… metaphorically” 

Of course, this was bullshit. He DID have a large collection of expensive clothing that had more name recognition than fabric, but this was not a hard rule. Yes, many expensive brands focused on fabric quality and costly beading and embroidery. But Legolas had recently found himself falling into the world of “fast-fashion”; where trends were number 1 and quality... was number 34 or something. Hopefully his father would not inspect the quality of his clothing too closely, or the ruse would be uncovered.

Thranduil continued to gaze at Legolas, eyebrows quirked and with a slight frown on his face. After a few tense moments, during which Legolas stood unmoving, Thranduil smiled.

“I… see. Yes, I understand. Truly, mortals never cease to amuse me. Of course they would create such a nonsensical way of demonstrating one’s fortune,” he chuckled.

Crisis averted! At the apparent acceptance of the explanation, Legolas relaxed and his smile widened. 

At this Thranduil frowned. “However, now that us elves have returned, I expect you to wear garbs that do not adhere to such… foolery. Am I clear?”

What? No! Legolas loved his clothing! Just because what he wore wasn’t up to “elvish standards” doesn’t mean that it was wrong or lesser!

“Yes, Ada. I understand.” Understand? Yes. Going to actually follow his father’s order? Hell no.

“Now, I see by your… tunic ... that you have obtained a great love for the taste of chicken. A rather strange thing to declare a love of, but it is abundantly clear that your time here amongst mortals has… affected you. But as you desire, we will go to an establishment that serves chicken’s meat. Our guide made mention of a tavern located in the mall where we would be able to feast.” Thranduil turned and began to walk away. “Come, guide!” he yelled out. “Continue to escort us to this tavern you spoke of, presuming that it serves poultry of an acceptable standard.”

Legolas looked down at his shirt. Ah, so THAT was why his father assumed he loved chicken… That particular crop-top was a gift from a friend with a sense of humor. It had “hungry for it” displayed in large font with a minimalist rooster front and center. It was one of his favorites.

Comments on the graphics on his shirt aside, the conversation went relatively well, and Legolas was not going to risk it all to explain to his father modern examples of homonyms. Besides, THAT conversion was for another day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boi! Getting this chapter out was a ride!
> 
> I had planned on having another chapter be the second released, but then I realized that it wouldn't make sense for it to come before this one due to an aspect of the plot. Sadly this meant I then had to complete a chapter that was only about 10% done vs one that was 80% done.
> 
> At least the now-3rd-chapter is pretty much completely finished, so it will not take long to complete it and post it! At least I assume... I have a couple of big end-of-semester assignments sneaking up on me.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Personal News!
> 
> I am going to AnimeNYC in mid-November! I'll be wearing a Gimli-inspired Lolita coordinate on Saturday and a Party-Thranduil coordinate on Sunday (or Saturday night if I end up going to any of the after-parties)
> 
> I am also getting my first tattoo on the 29th! It's going to be of Legolas' Lothlorien bow and Gimli's Battle Axe crossing one another with leaves in the background. I am a wimp with pain, however, so I have no idea how that week is going to go work/writing-wise. We shall see!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thank you everyone for your comments! It was amazing reading through them. <3
> 
> The art was once again drawn by the amazing Deheerkonijn! Check out her Twitter and Tumblr! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Legolas' personality in this fic is mainly based off of a mix of Book-Legolas and Legolas as represented in the artist Deheerkonijn's works. 
> 
> Let's be frank, Book-Legolas is a weird, hot mess. Leave him alone for thousands of years in a world where there's no other immortals there to hold him accountable/keep him in check? You just KNOW weird shit's gonna come from that.
> 
> And thank you Deheerkonijn for Thot-olas! Their version of Legolas was what actually inspired me to write this. They're also the one I commissioned for the art you'll see in each chapter! 
> 
> Here's their Twitter: https://twitter.com/deheerkonijn?lang=en
> 
> And their Tumblr!:http://deheerkonijn.tumblr.com
> 
> * * *
> 
> This fic's Legolas has fully integrated himself into mortal society, and so changes what he wears and how he acts with the times. I figure he'd be like "Oh, this is so cool! A couple hundred years ago I couldn't even show my ankles! And now these shorts on sale leave half my ass-cheeks exposed! Yes please!"
> 
> * * *
> 
> I am planning on having this be a series of one-shots, with each chapter showing Legolas interacting with a different elf/being as they discover something new within modern society. I have 7 other chapters in the wings right now (in various states of writing, all with art commissions on the way), but Graduate College is starting to pick up speed so I don't have a set schedule for when I'll post. Right now I'm aiming for one every 2 weeks or 1 per month. We shall see!


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